


Long Gone

by phantomas (sil)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Discord in Keys of Winteriron, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sil/pseuds/phantomas
Summary: "When you get this, I'll be long gone." That's how Bucky's unexpected letter to Tony starts.





	Long Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Politzania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/gifts).



> Written for the Winteriron Discord Key exchange

“ _ When you get this, I'll be long gone. I'm good at disappearing and I told Steve not to look for me. I'll let him know how I'm doing, I'll keep in touch now and then. In case you want to know. _

_ But I know you won't and it's okay. I don't expect anything different. _

 

_ I think. I've done my part. _

_ I've had enough of fighting to last me three lifetimes. It's all I know, and it's time for me to learn something else. _

 

_ I know you tried. _

_ I know. _

_ I know you made yourself look me in the eyes, and made yourself hide all that you were feeling. You may have forgiven me, I believe you when you say you did, but your eyes. Your eyes. The control you have to exert, even on your body language, just to be in the same room with me. _

_ I can see it. _

_ And I can't take it anymore. _

 

_ I'm sorry. I tried. I fought alongside you. I took your jokes and jibes for what they were, no real malice underneath, just the sharpness of a long lived grief. _

_ I said thank you for my new arm, and no, it wasn't on you to build me one, just because you destroyed my old one. You didn't have to do it. You didn't have to do a damn thing. _

 

_ I told Steve not to be an ass. But you know him. You two can be idiots together. I'm glad things are patched up between you two. You keep it that way. I made Steve promise. And no, I didn't tell him why I'm going, just that I want to, that it's the right thing for me just now. And yes, the punk tried his 'you really want to do this now' voice on me, and no, it didn't work. _

 

_ I can't stay. The war is won, and what's left. What's left needs good men, like you and Steve and the others, to make it right again, and to rebuild. _

 

_ I know nothing about rebuilding. I don't do the things I used to do anymore. But I only know how to destroy. I'll find a quiet place where I can just be, and not hurt anyone. Maybe a little field, where I can try grow things. Be a bit more like you. Try, at least. _

 

_ I know you know. I know you noticed me staring at you, while you were doing your thing, running your mouth like a super engine, juggling tech and space stuff as easily as I juggle knives. What can I say, I lived a sheltered life, I'm easily impressed. Ah ah. _

 

_ That night we spent hiding in the cold, praying for Steve to make it. I moved as close to you as I could. I run hot, super soldier hot. I shared what I could of my warmth with you. You were so tense. _

 

_ I don't know why I'm writing you. All of this. Doesn't mean a thing. I saw you smiling, once and I couldn't move, for a moment. The way I felt. I didn't remember I could feel like this. Not just the home feeling of Steve being around. But that buzz, lower in your belly. The buzz when your heart beats faster. When everything wraps itself around one person and you're caught up in that storm, and you can't see anything else. Anyone else. _

 

_ I'm writing because I'm selfish, and I know I won't see you again, because you'll be glad I'm gone and that's how it should be. _

 

_ You shouldn't have to be looking at the man that killed your parents, day after day. At least not once the war is won, and that man is not needed anymore. I'm not needed anymore. _

 

_ But I want to say it. I got caught up in you so bad. _

_ And it can never be, and I can't stand to be around you knowing that, so I'm gone. _

_ So you don't have to look at me. _

_ So I don't have to see that hurt in your eyes. _

 

_ So I don't have to deal with all these feelings I have for you. I'd like to think, dream, that you wouldn't laugh at me, that you wouldn't be cruel – but what else could be? Pity? _

 

_ I'll just keep the image of you with me, the dark under your eyes after a 30hours shift in your workshop, your messy hair, that smirk when you say something clever that you know it's way too clever for everyone else, that hint of bitterness in all your smiles. _

 

_ I didn't mean to kiss you. Last night. It just happened. You were safe, everyone was safe and accounted for, finally, you were laughing and I. _

 

_ Sorry. The way you looked at me after. _

_ At least you didn't punch me. I'd've take it, but I'm glad you didn't. _

 

_ I'm taking this with me. This memory of your lips under mine. One good memory to add against all the bad ones.” _

 

***

 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Tony threw the crumpled page against the wall, ran his fingers through his messy hair, then picked the piece of paper up and smoothed it carefully.

He stood with is arms crossed against his chest.

 

Steve looked at him from the door. “He didn't say why he was going, but. Known him all my life, got an idea it's got something to do with you.”

 

Tony glanced up at Steve, then away quickly. “We won't find him if he doesn't want to be found.”

 

“Do you want to find him, Tony?” Steve asked quietly.

 

“You're his BFF, aren't you? Went after him for two years, before, what, are you going to just let him go like this? Cause, if you are, I ain't believing it for one minute. Are you?” Tony looked at his desk while speaking.

 

“Made me promise not to. Made him promise to keep in touch. Or else.” Steve stepped in the room, perched on the desk closest to Tony. “Come on, Tony. What was it? Did you fight? After all we've been through, I thought, I hoped-”

 

“Why does it have to be me? Uh? Maybe it wasn't me, have you thought of that? Maybe it wasn't me at all, maybe if you’d stop for a moment and washed the righteousness off your mouth, maybe-” Tony stopped his tirade abruptly. Put his hand on Steve's shoulder, curled his fingers there. “It's. Complicated.” He murmured. “Sorry.” Tony tightened his grip for a moment, then let go.

 

“I put a tracker on him,” Steve said, looking at Tony's back. “He'll find it eventually, but I think there's a window of opportunity there. Couple of hours, at least.”

 

They looked at each other, for a moment. Tony folded the page in his hands. “Maybe he's right,” he murmured, letting Steve see how vulnerable Tony was. How tired of fighting. “Maybe it's best this way.”

 

“Is it? Is it really? Best for you? For him?” Steve stood up, deposited a small device on Tony's desk. “When we were kids, Buck had to hide. The way he was, the things he felt. It wasn't easy, and all those back alley fights I'm famous for? Half of them I fought for him. Because guys were saying things, and I wasn't letting them. It never made a difference, to me. Don't make him hide away, again. After all he's been through, after all the destruction and horror we've seen. The people we've lost. Whatever you think, just. Please.” Steve said his piece, waited a beat, then walked out of the room, not looking back.

 

Tony picked up the tracking device. Then stretched his right hand in the air.

 

***

 

The Iron Man suit folded back neatly on itself as soon as Tony's feet where on the ground. Bucky was straddling Steve's bike, the side-stand kicked down while the engine purred to silence.

 

Tony walked up to Bucky. “We need to talk, Cyber Wonder.”

 

Bucky ignored him, instead patting the collar of his jacket. “Punk,” he muttered, as his fingers retrieved the tiny bug and promptly crashed it in tiny little crumbs of metal and electronics. With a small sigh, he looked at Tony.

 

“You look as if I'm going to, I don't know, sentence you to death or something,” Tony said, leaning smoothly on the handlebars.

 

“Aren't you?” Bucky asked in that low voice of his that meant he was ready to run.

 

“I don't know. Am I?” Tony fished Bucky's letter out of his pocket with two fingers, waved it in the air. “I don't think so. About this.” He waved the letter again, stepping close to Bucky's thigh, and smoothly lifting the keys off the injection with his left hand. “I didn't punch you when you kissed me because I was, for once in my life, actually speechless, and you may have noticed, that doesn't really happen to me, my vocabulary stretches far and wide and yes, I was President of the Speech Club at college and Uni, and really, finding myself so surprised I can't utter a word is not a situation I am familiar with.”

 

Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, muscles bunching up defensively. “You gonna punch me now?”

 

Tony looked at him. “No,” he murmured. “No, I'm not.” He took one more step forward, bringing his thighs flush with Bucky's, no space left between their bodies. Then tilted his face, his nose brushing with Bucky's, and slowly, meaningfully, closing his eyes, pressed his lips on Bucky's mouth. Tasted lips, gently, then pressed for more, licked them open, pushed his way in, and felt Bucky melting against him, opening his mouth and letting Tony have whatever he wanted.

 

Caught up in each other, more likely, Tony thought as he wrapped his arms around Bucky.


End file.
